


Table for Three

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: it's complicated [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22658875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: @winchesterxgirl requested: Brock/Darcy/Frank's first Valentine's Day
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow, Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow/Frank Castle, Frank Castle/Darcy Lewis
Series: it's complicated [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630114
Comments: 21
Kudos: 222





	Table for Three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winchesterxgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchesterxgirl/gifts).



> *I own nothing!

“I’m going out,” Frank announced, “to walk the damn dog. I’ll be back.” 

“Sure,” Darcy said, not looking up from her paperwork. In her peripheral vision, she saw Brock stiffen slightly. He was in the kitchen.

“Lock the door, Castle,” Brock called at his back.

“I’m locking the door,” Frank said. Dog’s collar jingled as he and Frank left. The door shut. And locked.

“Brock,” Darcy said, listening to him chop vegetables for tomorrow. Brock liked meal prep. He always expressed his emotions through knives, bless his heart. “You really need to give Frank some space.”

“I’m giving him space,” Brock grumbled. “He has his own room, doesn’t he? His own room--in my house! You’d think he’d be happy,” he said. “It’s not like I even fucking ask him to pay the light bill, but he acts like--”

“Like a guy whose wife and kids are dead?” Darcy said. Brock put down the knife with a _thunk_ and leaned against the counter.

“That’s not my fucking fault, though, is it?” he said roughly.

“No, baby,” Darcy said softly.

“So, why’s he always fucking punishing me for it, huh?” he asked. Darcy shook her head. She did not want to answer that question. That Darcy suspected Frank sometimes avoided Brock because he still had internalized guilt about the death of his family. That his internalized guilt and his internalized homophobia were interlaced at this point, probably because he’d never imagined himself in a relationship with a man while Maria was alive. But also….

Darcy repressed another sigh.

Also, because Brock was just more emotionally sensitive to household vibes than Darcy. She could--could and did--let Frank go off alone to process. Sulk, if he needed to. She could be alone some without it making her feel bad. She would happily putter around the hours for hours by herself, listening to Postmodern Jukebox or weird podcasts until Frank came back ready to talk. She understood his need for breaks from talking and being social. They were alike that way. But Brock took Frank’s long walks and his occasional solo trips to go watch a Knicks game at a local bar as rejections. Brock was surprisingly domestic. He wanted the three of them to be together all the time. Together and happy. This was a complication Darcy hadn’t foreseen when they’d all moved in together. Since Brock had shifted to training work and tactical planning for emergencies at SHIELD, he was home 24/7. This had been great for Darcy, who missed him when he disappeared on missions, but she’d begun to realize that Brock was the most traditionally romantic of the three of them. He planned dates. Day trips. He wanted them to eat together every night. And the more Brock tried--attempting to give Frank backrubs when he was in black moods, trying to joke and talk--the more Frank retreated. She looked at Brock. 

“He needs to sulk,” she said, deciding that was the best answer. “You don’t need to fix anything for him, he just needs to take his walks and be alone. You keep trying to fix his coping mechanism, baby.”

“His coping mechanism is leaving the house,” Brock said.

“Sure,” Darcy said. “He was an only child, remember?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Brock said.

“Alone is his normal,” Darcy said. “He’s just pressing the reset button or whatever.”

“The reset button?” Brock said. “Like the goddamn wifi?”

“Exactly,” Darcy said. “Let him come back to you.”

“He’s just wandering around DC. At night,” Brock said, “you don’t know--”

“I think Frank can handle himself,” Darcy said. Just to distract Brock, she added: “Mom.”

“I hate when the two of you call me that,” Brock groused. 

“Well, come and kiss me, then. I feel neglected,” she said, without malice.

“No, you don’t,” Brock said, “I’m the only person in this whole damn house who ever feels neglected.” But he dropped the knife and came over to snuggle and tickle her on the couch. 

“What’s really got you all upset?” Darcy said, after she’d kissed him and complimented his new arm-day regimen. He was actually easy to please, relatively-speaking. He liked praise, unlike Frank, who blushed, grumbled, and rejected compliments. And he was very open about his feelings, for an ex-triple agent. Brock sighed and his beaming smile dimmed.

“I was trying to plan Valentine’s Day,” he said. “He totally shut down on me, the asshole.” 

“Oh,” Darcy said. She frowned, thinking. “Brock? What if Frank and I do Valentine’s Day for you?” she said. 

“What--baby, he would never--” Brock said.

“I’ll keep him in line,” Darcy said. “I can wrangle Frank. Come to bed with me?”

“Yeah?” he said, smirk lighting up his face. She leaned forward and nuzzled him.

“I crave your attention,” she said, half-seriously. 

“I know you’re mocking me, but I’m saying yes, because I like sex,” Brock said, scooping her up. Darcy shrieked playfully. Then she rubbed his neck.

“Brock--I really am happier now that you’re home full time,” she told him. “I mean that. It’s wonderful being with you every day.” He stopped and beamed at her again. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

She let him run the show in bed, just to assauge his ego. It was fun to let him take her clothes off. And to watch him undress. She liked looking at him. Also, she was a smidge lazy, but even in lazy mode, sex with Brock was athletic. “What?” he said, at the face she made as he was lifting her leg over his shoulder. “Can’t keep up?”

“You’re going to pop my leg off,” Darcy said, laughing. She trusted him, thank God. His hands clasped her knee and he kissed her calf noisily.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he teased. “You not doing your stretches?” Her muscles were tight from sitting in the lab all day, but she wasn’t going to admit that she’d failed to follow his advice.

“Maybe a little,” she lied. “I do them a little.”

“A little?” he said, moving her leg. 

“Pffffhhhth, you--oh God,” she said, as he pushed into her, “that feels incredible.” He smirked, holding still. 

“You got this?” he said.

“Yes,” she said. She’d barely gotten the syllable out when he started to move his hips. “To hell with stretches,” she added, just to see him laugh. 

“Oh yeah?” Brock said. Then she couldn’t make actual words, just sounds. Not that she was complaining.

Brock had fallen asleep when Frank came crawling back into bed. “Hey,” she said, when she realized it was him undressing in the dark. She was facing the door; Brock’s arm was slung heavily over her body. He snored lightly. 

“Hey,” Frank said, sitting on the bed. He turned on his back, close enough that his arm brushed hers. Darcy could tell he was in a better mood. When he felt badly, he slept in the other bedroom. But that was only a few nights a month now.

“You missed sex,” she told him, grinning. He smiled. “We missed you,” she added. Frank sighed.

“Yeah,” he said. He was staring at the ceiling. “He’s pissed at me, isn’t he?” Frank asked, voice quiet. He meant Brock.

“Nope,” Darcy said.

“Don’t lie to me, Lewis, he was murdering some broccoli when I left,” Frank said, flaring his nostrils. 

“He’s not pissed, he just wants more romance and stuff,” Darcy said. “He wants to do something for Valentine’s Day, so I’m taking over,” she added.

“You’re taking over, huh? You gonna plan a badass Valentine’s Day at the dog park?” Frank asked, smiling.

“Maybe,” Darcy said. “That actually sounds kinda fun.”

“Yeah, I’m a great planner,” Frank said.

“I’ll call you if I need help,” Darcy said, trying for breezy. 

“You, uh, you do that,” Frank said. He was smiling. 

“Get in here with your body heat, Marine,” Darcy said, holding her arm out. She liked to sleep wedged between them. She was constantly cold. They both ran warm. Frank shifted to be closer to her. He was looking down. “You okay?” Darcy said, studying the way his eyelashes looked in the dim light from the bathroom. Frank’s eyes always gave him away.

“Yeah,” Frank said. “Real good.”

  
  


***

“You got candles?” Frank said to Darcy. He’d just come in from walking Dog to find her decorating for Valentine’s Day. She’d decided they would do an at-home dinner. She disliked noisy, crowded restaurants and sort of wanted to impress Brock with her cooking and her twinkle lights. She’d stashed tiramisu in the back of the fridge yesterday. She was making penne arrabiata tonight. Simple. Easy. Also, she had on good underwear.

“Yup,” Darcy said. “Tea lights. Is it cold enough for a fire?” she asked. Brock had a fireplace.

“Yeah,” Frank said. 

“You okay?” Darcy said. He looked nervous. He’d volunteered his way into helping her hang twinkle lights, set the table, and added a second bottle of wine to the chiller, “just in case.” She’d thought Frank was calm. But now he looked jittery.

“Yeah. I’m good,” he said. “I’ll build the fire. And then go change. Unless you need something?” Frank asked, swallowing like he had trouble getting the words out.

“The fire would be great,” Darcy said. “Just use the fire screen to block Dog.” She grinned to herself.

“What?” Frank said.

“As a kid, I had a dog who almost set his own hair on fire, standing next to the fireplace one night when it had rained outside,” Darcy said. “He didn’t like the rain, so he stood right next to that mesh to get dry and my mom freaked out.”

“Jesus,” Frank said. 

“He was okay, but it’s a lifelong anxiety now, buddy,” she told Dog. His tail thumped against the cabinet. 

“No shit,” Frank said. “You just gave it to me, Lewis.”

“Sorry!” Darcy said. It was fun to watch him sweat and swear at the fireplace, though. He burned his fingers a little, then disappeared to into the bathroom. When he came out, she was washing her hands and had taken off her apron. The pasta was done, the sauce was bubbling, and Darcy had bread on the table and wine on the counter. “Hey, you like nice,” Darcy said. Frank looked all...dressed up? He was wearing a button down shirt. She thought he might have gel in his hair.

“Thanks,” he said, shifting nervously. He looked embarrassed. A cute tint had risen in his cheeks. Was Frank--Frank Castle!--actually blushing?

“Wine?” she said.

“Yeah,” Frank said, moving over to her side. She eyed him as she poured a glass.

“You even smell good,” Darcy said. “Are you trying to be prettier than me--?”

“Shut up, Lewis,” he grumbled. “When’s he getting here?”

“Any minute now,” Darcy said. “But I see who you want to impress. And it’s not me,” she teased, smiling.

“Well, yeah, but you know what he’s like, all them hair products and the cologne,” Frank said. He lowered his voice. “He bought me cologne the other day,” he whispered, like it was a secret. “Just for no reason.”

“Oh, yeah, he got me vanilla buttercream body stuff, too,” Darcy said. She wiggled her eyebrows. “Mine’s edible.” She grinned. “I think that was the reason.”

“I don’t know how to deal with this,” Frank said.

“He’s gonna buy you presents, Frank. That’s one of his love languages.”

“Love languages,” Frank said. “What the fuck even is that?” He shook his head.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know, you fix things for people, your love language is acts of service,” Darcy said.

“Oh, yeah? What’s yours?” he said.

“Compliments and groping,” Darcy said, giggling. Frank laughed. She leaned back a little and eyed his ass. “Speaking of--?” she said.

“Yes, you can grab my ass,” Frank said. “After I check the fireplace.” He fed the fire, then returned for more wine. His expression was troubled.

“What’s wrong, Frank?” Darcy said. “Tell me, okay?” Frank seemed to pause, then gathered himself to talk. Darcy waited, giving him time. Several expressions crossed his face.

“I, uh, I’ve been thinking,” he said. He stopped and rubbed his face. It was a self-conscious gesture, she knew.

“Yeah?” she said, trying to encourage him. 

“I know this is just our first Valentine’s Day together, but uh, I was thinking we could talk about something,” Frank said. He stopped to study the pot of drained penne. “This isn’t going to get dry?”

“Nope,” Darcy said. “What something?”

“I, uh, was thinking we could, uh,” Frank said. “I know--shit, this is hard to say.”

“Okay,” Darcy said. “It’s okay. Take your time.” He sighed.

“I want to talk about making this--this relationship, uh,” Frank said. “I don’t know how to put it. I mean, fuck, we can’t get married, not all three of us. But we can, uh, be committed, right?” 

“Yes,” she said.

“You’d like that?” he said carefully.

“Of course,” she told him. Frank looked relieved--for a moment. Then he went tense again.

“Do you--would he like that?” he asked.

“Oh, I think he would love that,” Darcy said, seesawing between surprise and happiness. “Really love it, Frank.” She refrained from teasing Frank that living with a guy was pretty committed already.

“Okay,” Frank said. “How the fuck do we do that?”

“You could just...tell him how you feel?” she suggested.

“It’s not that simple,” he said. He sighed, looking aggrieved. 

“What?” Darcy said.

“When it’s a man and a woman, you just buy jewelry,” Frank said. “That makes it easy. You like somebody, you give ‘em something nice, they know you mean it,” he said. “I could buy you jewelry, no fucking problem. What am I supposed to do for him?”

“You could buy Brock jewelry, he likes jewelry,” Darcy said calmly. Frank stared at her for a moment. His frown turned into a stunned expression.

“Shit,” he said. “I could.”

“Yup,” Darcy said. Frank nodded. He looked at Darcy, then the clock.

“Do I have time now?” he said.

“Probably,” Darcy said. Frank looked at her for a split second, then grabbed his coat.

“I’ll get you something nice, too,” he said. 

“You better!” Darcy called, laughing. 


End file.
